


I Never Want To Be Without You, So Never Leave Me Alone

by agentlemons



Series: We're Dorks (But We're Dorks For Each Other's Benefit) [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Angst, Forehead Kisses, Jemma's already done with the new Director, Kissing, Love Confessions, Making Out, angsty fluff, anyway im done tagging enjoy the fic :), bad girl shenanigans, but because I don't write that stuff, dangerous missions, i feel like oprah handing out all these kisses, if you know what i mean, jaw kisses, many many kisses, shameless fluff really, so am I and I havent even seen him yet, the morning after some bad girl shenanigans, you get the abbreviated version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentlemons/pseuds/agentlemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz agrees to go on a dangerous mission, Jemma demands to know why, and they actually talk it out. And kiss too, of course.</p><p>Post season 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Want To Be Without You, So Never Leave Me Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ignitethestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitethestars/gifts).



> Thanks to the fabulous Tegan ([theskyesquake](archiveofourown.com/user/theskyesquake) on here and [fitzsimmvns](fitzsimmvns.tumblr.com) on tumblr) for convinving me to write this and for beta-ing it as well :)

“Miss Simmons? Are you busy?” 

 

Jemma is half tempted to roll her eyes enthusiastically at the shrill voice of her boss, the new Director, calling her name for what must've been the umpteenth time that morning.  _ For God’s sake, Google whatever scientific question you are bound to ask so I can have some peace and quiet for an hour.  _ She expects him to be standing there in her doorway when she turns, a troubled expression present on his face and a question present for her intelligent mind to answer. 

 

What she doesn't expect, however, is her Director standing at her door with her boyfriend standing awkwardly by his side. She pushes down the bright smile threatening to spread across her features, and squelches the urge to plant one on him with her boss present. It's becoming increasingly difficult to keep their relationship a secret from him, seeing as though his knowledge only spreads to the fact that they are nothing more than just best friends. Who have their own place together. And sleep in the same bed. And maybe occasionally use that bed for other activities vivid enough to make her blush. 

 

She doesn't let any of this show as she shakes her head and welcomes them in. “Hello, Fitz,” she states with a professional tone. She wanted to call him Doctor Fitzy, but calling her “very platonic best friend” that in front of her boss would not produce the best result. 

 

“Simmons,” he courteously greets back, straining at the slightest not to say her first name. 

 

“Mister Fitz and I were just discussing something,” her boss pipes up, “but he asked if he could visit you before he returns to his lab. Could you spare a few moments?”

 

“Of course,” she nods, allowing a meager smile to spread across her lips. “I've actually been having a bit of trouble with some of my equipment that I'm sure he could fix.”

 

“Great,” the Director nods, clapping his hands together, “well I'll be in my office if I need anything.”

 

“Right.” She waits until he's out of sight and down the hall before she mutters something quite unladylike.

 

She sighs heavily and finally focuses her attention on Fitz, who's still perched against the doorframe. “You seem a bit frustrated,” he says smugly. 

 

“You have no idea,” Jemma huffs, crossing her arms. “He’s popped in here 14 times just this morning! And yes, I've counted.”

 

“Mhmm,” Fitz hums, pushing himself up and moving closer to her.

 

“He treats me like I'm a walking science textbook.”

 

“A very attractive textbook, though,” Fitz tries, but she doesn't hear him.

 

“And honestly I just wished he would -” Her words are cut off by Fitz's lips on her own, chasing her thoughts away. He keeps doing this: cutting her off during one of her rants. It drives her up a wall, if she was honest. But the fact that his kisses still gives her a tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach gives her reason to allow it. She kisses him back for a moment before pulling back hesitantly, resting her forehead against his. 

 

“As much as I enjoy this, I really do need your help fixing something,” she says, pushing him away from her and traveling over to her computer. As he follows and bends down under her desk to take a look at the problem, she admires the curve of his back into - ehem - other areas she shouldn't be looking at during work hours. She decides to break the silence and shift her thoughts to something a bit more innocent. 

 

“So what were you and the Director talking about?” she asks, running two of her fingers along the length of her desk. Fitz, who clearly wasn't expecting to be asked that, bumps his head rather sharply on the underside of her desk. 

 

“Ow. Um...nothing important. Why do you ask?” he replies, stepping up from under the desk and rubbing the back of his head. 

 

“I don't know,” Jemma shrugs, “you just haven't interacted with him since my promotion. Thought it was a bit odd you were talking with him, is all.” She bites her lip, expectantly waiting for an honest answer that was soon to come out of his mouth.

 

That explanation never comes. 

 

He brushes off the question by telling her that her computer is fixed and walks out of the lab rather quickly, without as much as giving her another glance or a kiss.

 

_ Odd,  _ Jemma concludes as she returns to her work, keeping a mental note to ask him about it later.

 

***

  
  


He walks into their apartment earlier than usual, and finds her perched in the center of their bed, wearing one of his old plain t-shirts. He doesn't even need to ask her what's wrong; he knows that she knows.

 

“Why didn't you tell me you were going on a dangerous mission?” she asks, her voice eerily calm. “In fact, why did you  _ volunteer  _ to go?” 

 

He opens his mouth to speak, but only gets as far as “Jemma…,” before she interrupts.

 

“We talked about this, Fitz,” she sighs, slipping off their bed to step closer to his frozen-like state. “You promised me that we were going to talk about going on missions before agreeing to them. And you said that you  _ didn't  _ want to go on anymore missions that could threaten your life. But yet, I find out from my boss, and not my boyfriend, that you've decided to go on a secret mission that could very well kill you -”

 

“The mission is to kill Daisy,” he blurts out, and he regrets saying it. Oh, how he regrets it. Because not only did he reveal something he wasn't supposed to, but the hurt is clearly seen on Jemma's face. Because not only is he going on a mission to kill their friend that has done nothing but protected them since she went rogue, but he _ volunteered _ to do so.

 

“Please tell me there's more to this,” she whispers, and they're so close now, but neither of them are aware. Jemma places her hand on Fitz's shoulder, almost like they were best friends again, but this Jemma allows her hand to travel up the back of his neck and into his hair. There are tears pricking at her eyes, but she doesn't dare let them fall. “Please.”

 

Fitz’s eyes shut for a moment to savor the feel of her hand on his head, massaging the headache away, lightly scratching when it reaches the base of his skull. “I've been contacting Daisy for the past week.” 

 

He opens his eyes again just in time to see her nodding. Her hand has stopped on the back of his head, but she's not moving and he's not telling her she should.

 

“Leaving little inconspicuous messages so she'll know it's me. She sees them, but she doesn't respond. I don't expect her to anyway.” Fitz moves over to their bed and sits down on the edge of it, his hands shaking as he places them on his thighs. 

 

Looking up at Jemma, he adds “I need to do this, Jemma. I-I’m the only one out of all the teams going that doesn't want to kill her. I  _ need  _ to protect her.” 

 

Jemma moves the few strides it takes to stand in between his legs and places her hands on his shoulders.

 

“And what'll happen if you get caught trying to help her?” she asks, her voice wavering just the slightest bit.

 

“Hopefully nothing too bad that'll keep me from coming back to you.”

 

She laughs and wipes the tears from her eyes, and sinks down to sit in between his legs on the bed. She places her hand on his face and, giving him a watery smile, says, “Go protect her, Fitz.” Her eyes are burning into his own, and all he sees is love and admiration in them. “But you better come back to me. I don’t know what I would do without you, and I don’t want to find out.”

 

“Jemma, I lo-”

 

This time she cuts him off by pressing her lips to his own, more insistently this time, and he responds back almost instantly with enthusiasm. Both of her hands fly to the back of his head, tilting it to deepen the kiss, wanting more of him and all of him as she presses even closer, her chest pushed up against his. Fitz's arms wrap around the small of her back, pulling her into his lap and they fall back, hitting the mattress so fast that Jemma accidentally bites his lip too hard. Groaning into her mouth, he pulls away. 

 

“I'm sorry,” she says, trying to suppress a laugh. She moves down to kiss his lower lip but ends up laughing into his mouth instead, and he finds that he loves the sound even more. 

 

In some ways more than one, the position reminds her of Bucharest. They're wearing nothing near as fancy as they did for that mission, but they're together and they're alone and god forbid they have a moment together quite like that first time that seems like so long ago. 

 

Jemma stays in close proximity to his face, tracing a finger down his neck into the collar of his shirt while keeping her eyes locked on his. They stay quiet in that position for a minute before she whispers, “I don't ever want to be without you,” and then they're kissing again. Hard.

 

Soon enough, his shirt is up and over her head and the buttons on his shirt are all but torn off as they spend what could be their last night together. So, of course, they don't waste any time.

 

***

 

The sunlight streaming through the curtains in their room wakes Jemma first, adding to the warmth she already feels in her body. Her nose scrunches up at the brightness of the sun, so she turns slowly onto her other side to face Fitz, who's still fast asleep. His arm is under her neck, sprawled out onto her pillow while the other one is lightly placed over her bare hip, just barely touching her lower back. 

 

She reaches her hand up to run her fingertips along his stubble carefully, lightly scratching the rough patches of hair. Hearing his steady breaths go deeper means that he's waking up and she places a delicate kiss on his jaw, pulling back to see his blue eyes looking back at her lazily.

 

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick from sleep. He pulls her closer into his chest and wraps his arms around her firmly, his fingers from his right hand drawing light circles into her back.

 

“Morning,”she whispers back contentedly, her voice muffled in his chest, and hums when she feels him place kisses on her head.

 

The happy moment doesn't linger for long as she remembers what the day has in store for them. “You're going on the mission today,” she says, her fingernails drawing patterns above his heart. 

 

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters, kissing her on the forehead. “I have to meet up in the hangar with everyone else in an hour.”

 

Pressing another kiss to her hairline, he rolls over to the end of the bed and gets up, shrugging on a pair of boxers as he does so. She watches him as he disappears into their closet, eyeing the muscles in his back and his -

 

Ehem.

 

“What time do you need to be in to work?” he calls out. 

 

Jemma purposely flips onto her stomach to inhale the scent on his pillow, and covers herself up to her neck with the comforter. “I have no set time. I'll probably go in when you do.” 

 

She watches through the tangled hair in front of her eyes as he walks out of the closet wearing his usual dress shirt with no trousers to match. He shakes his head and walks back into the closet, and Jemma knows one thing for sure.

 

No matter what happens on the mission, she's taken for life.

 

***

 

The hangar is teeming with agents when Jemma walks in, and before she can take another step, the Director notices her presence and advances toward her.

 

“Miss Simmons,” he exclaims, a smile spreading onto his face. “What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing down here?”

 

“I thought I would wish everyone well on their mission. And I heard Fitz was down here, so I thought I'd stop by to offer some luck.” She lets her eyes wander while saying his name and she spots him, over near the plane, talking to a few other agents. She's met them before; they aren't the brightest or most dependable assets to a mission.

 

“Thank you for your good wishes. Seems you're off the hook for today with your duties being that I'm heading out with them-”

 

“You're accompanying them on the mission?” she interrupts, holding a hand out in front of him so as to keep him from leaving.

 

“Well, of course,” he adds, “can't have six large teams of agents running around without a leader, now can they?”

 

“I'll tell Fitz you're looking for him. Pack up, Agents! Wheels up in five!”

 

He walks away, leaving Jemma to grimace from the fact that May used to say that. The next thing she realizes, everyone is moving towards the plane but one person who's moving towards her.

 

“Jemma, hey,” Fitz says as he approaches, trying to keep his voice low so it doesn't travel. “I thought you said you weren't going to come down.”

 

She sighs. “I know,” she explains, shaking her head and looking down, “I just needed to see you.”

 

He moves closer to her, and she curses her heart for beating so fast at his proximity. “You saw me this morning,” he whispers, tilting his head to talk in her ear, “and last night.”

 

The way he says it causes her to shiver, and she has to push him away from her so that she doesn't pull him into the nearest closet to have her wicked way with him. Again.

 

“You better go,” she sighs, smiling and nodding towards the plane, where everyone is strapped in and ready, and her boss is talking to a group near the entrance. 

 

Fitz steps back and his eyes fix on her own, and she's taken back to when he was leaving for yet another mission and a “Maybe there is” was uttered from her lips, dripping with the possibility of  _ more than that _ .

 

He smiles slightly and turns, and she looks up to see her boss looking directly at them.

 

_ Screw it. _

 

“Fitz,” she began, but doesn't continue her sentence because she pulls him in close by his tact gear and kisses him briefly but firmly, and then pulling away just to brush her lips gently against his own. She rests her forehead against his own, much like their kiss in the old lab, but utters something that that Jemma would never have had the courage to.

 

“I love you.”

 

He nods knowingly, and she peeks up at him through her lashes to see him wearing a dopey grin on his face. “I love you too, Jemma. More than anything.”

 

She smiles in return and presses three more fast kisses to his lips that he tries to deepen, but she pushes him away before he could get distracted.

 

She doesn't realize she's crying until she feels a splash hit the ground by her shoe, and when she looks up again, the Director is shooting Fitz a knowing grin. Because he  _ knows.  _ Of course he does. They've never been that good at keeping a secret, especially when it came to their relationship. But it's nice to know that she doesn't need to cover up about why she spent so long looking for something in the supply closet or why her hair and clothes seemed so rumpled just by taking a trip to the loo or why she came into work late for the third time that week. 

 

And it's even greater to know that she doesn't have to hide the handcrafted ring on her finger that Fitz gave to her the night he returned from the mission (which, as a result, was a success on his end). Besides, the unborn child they had conceived the night before said mission would give it away very fast. 

 

Especially if the walking science textbook began to expand for different reasons than intended.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [bioforensics](bioforensics.tumblr.com) on tumblr :)


End file.
